The Fault in the System
by Waiting for Cas
Summary: Two years he was undercover in Germany, looking for the 'Bad Seed.' He was not allowed contact with any agents other than the ones in Germany, he had no back up, and no one to trust. Then came the fall of SHIELD. He was forgotten in Germany and left for the dead. SHIELD had fallen, and he had gotten left behind.
1. Apart (Prologue)

**The Fault in the System**

* * *

Apart (Prologue) 

Two pairs of feet dangled from the high building, swinging back and forth without rhythm. It was peaceful. The noises from the city below was muffled by the warm breeze. The two just sat there, staring into the bright city of Washington, watching as the sun got lower and lower into the sky.

"So, two years, minimum, undercover in Germany," the women stated, sadness evident in her voice.

"Ya." the man beside her replied, "Look Nat, I have been meaning to do this for a really long time, and I know it's rude of me to do this just before I leave but," the man pulled out a small, velvet, box. He swung his legs back over the ledge and got down on one knee, "Nat," he opened the box, agonizingly slow, Natasha's face twisting into horror as she realized what was happening, "will you let this be me, your good-luck charm, while I'm gone?"

Natasha looked inside the box and saw a simple necklace with a diamond covered arrow charm at the end.

"Clint you jerk!" Natasha yelled, shoving her friend over.

Clint just lay on the roof laughing, "You should have seen your face! You were horrified! the best part is, I got the whole thing on camera, and it's going on the SHIELD forum!"

"Haha Clint, you're so funny," she retorted sarcastically.

Still smiling, and wiping fake tears away, Clint sat next to Natasha on the edge of the roof again.

"But seriously Nat, be safe while I'm gone. I don't want to come back in two years to find my best friend blown into a million pieces, or six feet under."

"I'll be fine, trust me. Besides, I'll find myself someone to watch my back before you get back. You should be more worried about yourself. Two years with no contact with any SHIELD agent, no back up, and you have to become a brand new person. Some one could find out and kill you." she pointed out.

"Naw, I'll be fine."

And till the last light of the day they sat in silence, soaking in each others presence. Natasha was actually quite worried for Clint. It had been less than a month since the attack on New York, and she wasn't sure if Clint's mind was quite as stable as he thought it was.

* * *

When Natasha woke the next morning, the first thing she saw was the velvet box from the night before was sitting on her night stand. It was a sad thing to wake up to, no matter how beautiful it was. Her best friend was gone for two years, at the least, and that would be the only reminder of him.


	2. Chapter 1

May 13th 2012.

Brett Howet. Born in Thief River Falls, Minnesota. He grew up in the small town with his mom and older brother. His dad? Left to fight a war that he would never return home from. The Howet's lived a modest life in a small house. Brett was nothing out of the ordinary, beside being a little smarter than his classmates. James, his brother, however was good at what felt like everything. Sports, cooking, and working with people were his best attributes. His only difficulty was school.

Brett was ten when his older brother convinced him to join a sport. He ended up trying out Taekwondo, and loved it. That's when he got into martial arts. By time he was 18, he had gotten the highest ranks in Karate, Taekwondo, Krav Maga, and many other martial arts.

During that time he had graduated with some of the highest marks in his grade. Brett had headed to Med School while his brother had followed his fathers footsteps in the military. James had always been disappointed that Brett had chosen to be a doctor rather than serving his country. James also believed that their dad would also be disappointed in him.

For the next few years, Brett trained as a med student, and ended up becoming a family doctor. James moved up through army training in a breeze. Life was good for both of them, but nothing good lasts forever. In 2010 Brett had celebrated his thirtieth birthday, his brother would have been celebrating his thirty-second, if he had made it. March second of that year, a month before his birthday, James and all the other veterans with him had died after hitting a land mine with their truck.

Brett couldn't live with the fact he had disappointed his brother by becoming a medical student, so he joined the military. At least sort of. He had been approached by SHIELD after two years in training. They wanted him to join them. Brett knew everything he needed to be able to work at SHIELD, so he said yes. That May he headed off to Germany on his request. That was the last vacation spot he and James had been to, the last place he had fun with his brother.

This was just another fictional story, of course, created purely to decieve the eyes and minds of anyone willing to read it. Like many adaptations of books, Brett needed an actor to play him, and that was what Clint was hired for. He had been acting as other people longer than he had been acting as himself. At least that's how he thought about it.

Agent Barton's job was fairly simple. He would head into the Germany SHIELD base as Brett Howet. He would act as if he had never gotten any SHIELD training, he would make friends, he would slowly move up in ranks like a normal person. His main objective? Find the bad seed, or seeds, that were selling SHIELDS weapon designs, alias information, and when SHIELD was going to strike to terrorist groups. Already too many agents had died.

If the German base had been any other, it would have been easy to pick out the bad seed, but the German base was the biggest in the world. It was at a vantage point between Russia and America, perfect for stopping missiles heading to America. The other two European bases in Hungary and Spain had been shut down do to major difficulties (An accidental bombing and the Budapest incident,) leaving thousands of Agents without a safe place to be. SHIELD moved them to the nearest base in Germany, quickly doing the construction needed to host that many people.

With hundreds of Agents coming and going each day it would be impossible to find the mole. Only someone on the inside would be able to find the snitch, and without knowing who the bad seed was, they had to send in a trusted Agent.

Being how famous in the SHIELD world Clint was, him going in as himself would get him nowhere. So he had to change who he was, from the inside out. His personality had to go, and so did his looks. The scientists at SHIELD had created a prototype mask that digitally uploaded looks onto it.

Clint had gone from a brown haired, brown eyed, man, to an orange haired, green eyed, boy like man, with freckles across his nose. He looked like a teenage that had aged to much. Not that he minded of course. It did make him look younger and he had the right look to fit into his short body.

Of course that left him with one problem, his hearing aids. He had lost eighty percent of his hearing after firing a sonic arrow too close. His efforts weren't in vain though. That sonic arrow had stopped Crossfire from using his weapons to kill off the superhero community. Clint had thought positively about his hearing aids for a long time. If he turned them up high enough, he could hear a pin drop from fifty feet away on carpet.

The issue was, SHIELD did frequent check ups on Agents, including hearing exams. His aids were small, but if they looked into his ear, they would see them. If he took them out, they would still find that something was up. It was a lose, lose situation. He could read lips fine, but if the person talking to him looked away, he would be screwed without them in. He would just have to figure it out last second.

The worst part about it was on the eight hour flight from Washington to Sylt German he would be catching up on the ten years of medical education he didn't have. Then spending another hour reading the SHIELD guidelines from Sylt to the base. He didn't understand why he couldn't have just been a military official or something, it would have made his life a lot easier, but SHIELD worked in weird ways, so he would go with it. Either way, it would be a long flight for new Agent Brett Howel.

* * *

Clint couldn't decide if this was karma, or he was just extremely unlucky. Either way, he was sick of the grey. His new room consisted of a sickly shade of grey covering every surface, from the floor, to the sheets on his bed, to the door knob on his closet. It was just like his old room in Washington, except more grey, which he didn't know was possible.

He would figure out a way to make his room more cheery in the morning, but for now, he just needed some rest. He threw his duffle bag next to the bed, then flopped down on top the mattress. Nothing like a lumpy thin mattress, was his last thought before falling asleep.

The next morning started at five o'clock sharp in the dining area. Hundreds of people filled the room, spread out over thirty long tables. It was surprisingly quiet in there. There was the odd clatter or two of dishes, but other than that there was just hushed whispers echoing around the room.

Clint had grabbed an apple, and was nearly tip toeing around trying to find a seat. It was almost unnatural how quiet it was in there. After searching for a while, Clint found a seat, with no one within two seats of him. There he sat quietly eating his apple, and 'reading,' his training schedule. At least that was what it looked like.

He was actually scanning the crowd, looking for people who didn't seem to fit with the crowed, who seemed to closed to be normal. Taking another bite of his apple, he began a mental list of all the suspects.

"You must be new," a voice said from the left of Clint.

Turn around to face the voice, Clint's eyes met with a man in his mid twenties. He had dark brown hair, and chocolate eyes. He had a large smile plastered on his face.

"Affirmative," Clint replied.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Christopher Powell, you can just call me Chris though," Chris told Clint.

" Brett Howet," he replied, nearly slipping and saying Clint.

"Nice to meet you!" Chris smiled, "Are you training here, or are you field training?"

"Training in here."

"Awesome! What's your first training session?" Chris gestured to Clint's schedule.

Glancing down on his sheet, even though he already had it memorized, Clint replied, "Hand to hand combat."

"That sucks. Agent Sammons teaches that, and he is ruff, especially on newbies like yourself. I can take you to The Arena if you want. That's where they teach pretty much everything from lon grange weapons to knife throwing. It's pretty amazing!" Agent Powell jumped up from the table and gestured Clint to follow him. Complying, Clint followed him down the twisting halls as he explained the place.

"Most Agents around here don't even get considered to go out in the field until they are a level three agent. Level one is basic training, level two is more electronic training, like how to disarm a bomb and such. Level three is mostly desk work, like paperwork and tracking agents in the field. If you are lucky enough to get chosen to go out into the field when your a level three, you have to have at least one level six or higher with you at all times. Level four is when you decide what is best for you, desk work, being an analyst, doing field work, undercover work, inventing new products, and it's completely up to you. After that, your as free as a bird!"

"How long does it take to get to a level four?"

"Depends how good you are. Most take from eight to twelve months, but some in less than five and over twenty. It just depends in your skill set," there was a moments pause where there was silence, then Chris spoke up again, "Well this is the arena! Good luck in there. If you are aching afterwards, they give out free ice packs in the cafeteria."

"Thanks for the help Chris," Clint gave a small smile to Chris.

"No problem," Chris smiled back and walked down the long hallway in the other direction.

* * *

"Ok kids!" Agent Sammons screamed over loud noises, "I want you here at attention now!"

Almost instantly, twenty men lined up in front of him in neat lines of five. It was almost completely silent in there now. The weapons range was sealed by soundproof walls, making the only sounds the sound of breaths.

"I only have two rules here, if you break either of them, six weeks of sweaty laundry, dishes and used ammo disposal duty, which is not as fun as it sounds. Rule number one. Never call another man a lady. You know why?" He screamed, "Because that is giving to much credit! I've seen women tougher than all of you combined! You men are nothing more than lazy, stupid, men who can't do anything right till you prove it to me! Understand!" he yelled yet again.

"Yes Sir," all twenty men replied.

"Rule number two, I want no dead bodies. I am already too busy as it is. If I have to fill out extra paperwork, no one is going to be happy! Now let's begin! I do things differently around here. You learn by watching, then we teach you to fight! Each of you will be going up against four other people for the next few days. Each time you win, you get ten point. Each time you do something right, you get one point. The five people with the most points at then end do a final face off. The man who wins that round, graduates this class early, and goes onto the next level of training in hand to hand combat. Understand? Garner and Russ, you're on mat one, Frate and Gunner, you're on mat two. Now go and fight. The rest of you watch what they do right and wrong! Now GO!"

* * *

Thank you guys so much for you patience. I know it took a long time to update, and I'm really sorry about that. Next chapter I promise to put in an action scene or two.

Till next time!


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